


Box of Stained Glass Tears

by goodisrelative



Category: Life
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-08
Updated: 2008-07-08
Packaged: 2017-10-18 04:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,034
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/184898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goodisrelative/pseuds/goodisrelative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>"You aren't a fallen woman, you know, Dani."</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Box of Stained Glass Tears

**Author's Note:**

> I hate all the driving I do because I always end up getting story ideas and then I can never remember them! Thanks to my betas, [](http://pixie-on-acid.livejournal.com/profile)[**pixie_on_acid**](http://pixie-on-acid.livejournal.com/) and [](http://thekatebeyond.livejournal.com/profile)[**thekatebeyond**](http://thekatebeyond.livejournal.com/).

_**Life: Box of Stained Glass Tears (pg-13)**_  
Title: Box of Stained Glass Tears  
Author: [](http://goodisrelative.livejournal.com/profile)[**goodisrelative**](http://goodisrelative.livejournal.com/)  
Rating: PG-13 due to subject matter  
Spoilers: _The Fallen Woman_  
Warnings: graphic images  
Characters/Pairings: Dani/none  
Summary: _"You aren't a fallen woman, you know, Dani."_  
Disclaimer: I don't own it, as much as I <3 it.

Author's Note: I hate all the driving I do because I always end up getting story ideas and then I can never remember them! Thanks to my betas, [](http://pixie-on-acid.livejournal.com/profile)[**pixie_on_acid**](http://pixie-on-acid.livejournal.com/) and [](http://thekatebeyond.livejournal.com/profile)[**thekatebeyond**](http://thekatebeyond.livejournal.com/).

  


* * *

She'd had faith once upon a time; she was certain of that. The crucifix she once wore all the time made that a truth. It was a part of her childhood. Religion and faith went hand in hand with mass on Sundays with her father and then, after, time with her mother.

She couldn't pinpoint the exact moment she knew it was gone. She was sure it wasn't the moment she watched her boyfriend blow his brains out while she was too strung out on coke to stop him. It wasn't even the moment she'd been given the ultimatum – get sober and do the program or be fired. She couldn't be sure if it was before those events or after.

Her slide into hell and faithlessness had been lined with drugs. She wasn't sure if it had started with heroin and ended with coke or was only ever coke. She couldn't remember how the drugs had started... she just knew how they ended, in cocaine.

 _Damn Crews for bringing all this up!_ It had started with the stupid fake angel falling from the "sky." He hadn't let it drop, either. And then that damn plastic angel on the dashboard. _Stupid, tacky thing! As if it meant anything! As if it mattered if she had faith or not!_

But it did. She knew that, too, because she couldn't get the case, her partner, or that damn angel out of her mind. She'd even put her cross back on for the first time in years. It was bubbling up and she knew she was going to explode if she didn’t say something soon.

"Damn you, Crews! Get out here." She hated talking. And she hated him right now for this.

"Dani, what brings you to my humble abode at 2 a.m. this morning?" He was smiling.

He was mocking her. He had to be. No one was this cheerful at 2 a.m. She glared at him.

"Come in, Reese. Would you like some prickly pear?"

She just growled as she walked by him and into his house.

"It's quite delicious, although its skin is prickly. You would enjoy it. It's a lot like you, Dani. Life is funny that way – how all different living things imitate each other – isn't it?"

"Crews, do you know how much I hate you right now?"

"What is it this time?" He was calm; he was used to her anger. It usually ran out fast, burning bright and hot, but quick. He looked at her and saw the crucifix around her neck. He knew what was bothering her then and was glad. She needed to face this. "You aren't a fallen woman, you know, Dani."

God, how she hated how he could see right through her. But, perversely, it made her feel safe, too, that someone tried to know her, no matter how much she tried to shut him out. All that had been percolating for days came spewing out. "Damn you and that stupid, tacky, plastic angel! I hate your stupid Zen bullshit. I hate that you can't just leave things alone, always poking and prodding, no matter how much you make people hurt. You can't respect my personal space, always picking at scabs. You can’t just let me freaking be!" She spun around, facing him, eyes flashing with anger, pain and tears. "I don't know when I lost it! I just woke up one day and it was gone. Maybe it was before all the drugs, but maybe it wasn't. The road to hell is paved with cocaine, not good intentions. Or maybe it's both, because I went under with good intentions, but then the drugs washed everything else away. All I know is that one day I was standing in front of the mirror and I saw the crucifix and couldn't stand seeing it anymore, so I ripped it off. I couldn't stand the thought of it touching me." Her anger seemed to leave her then. "Or of me touching it, I suppose. I dirtied it. And I am a fallen woman, Crews. I've hit bottom."

"But you got back up, Dani. Life is all about falling. The key is getting up; to never stop getting back up. We all fall, over and over. But only the strong keep getting up again."

"I really do hate you, you know that, right?" There wasn't any heat this time.

"Of course. That's a given." He smiled at her as he took her hand. "Come on up-stairs. We both need some rest. You can crash in the spare room."

"Do you have a bed in there?" She eyed him warily.

"Why don't you go find out? Life is a mystery. This one is one you should enjoy solving." Charlie smiled and headed upstairs.

She scowled at him, but started up the stairs. She was too tired to drive home.

She found the room. There wasn't a bed, but there was a mattress and a tee shirt.

"I hate you!" she called out. She hated that he'd known all along she'd come by tonight. She hated… nothing tonight. Tonight she just wanted to sleep. She changed into the tee shirt and then crawled under the covers and fell asleep a moment later.

The crucifix glinted in the sunlight that slipped through the cracks of his window shades. He watched her for a minute before heading down to the kitchen. It was time he treated her to breakfast. After all, he had pushed her hard. But he saw so much more in her than she allowed herself to see anymore. And he was going to make her see the truth as he saw it… at least about herself.  



End file.
